Globes
by Nakimochiku
Summary: why is it called the Globe Theater, when it's not actually a globe? France x England plus Kid! America and Canada, oneshot, enjoy.


Globes

The smells of baking things filled the spacious kitchen, the sound of metal scraping metal as Francis expertly whipped cream by hand, occasionally brushing his hair from his face. At the kitchen table, two blonde boys focused on a structure made of tooth picks and popsicle sticks, soaking wet with glue. Arthur sipped Earl grey and calmly read the newspaper, glancing often at Francis who smirked when he caught him looking, making sure Arthur knew exactly what he was thinking whenever he licked stray whipped cream from his fingers.

Matthew held up the wall of the model Globe Theater as Alfred poured on glue, both glancing frequently at the black and white picture they had printed off the computer. The traded hushed whispers back and forth, quietly arguing on how they should create the tiny balcony seats when the wall was dry and sturdy enough to stand on it's own.

The science project was supposed to be about structure, and had been giving the boys no end of trouble for the past week. Matthew had wanted to do the CN Tower. Alfred had wanted Lady Liberty, yelling something about symbols of freedom and awesomeness. In the end they had decided on the Globe Theater because they had been there the year before while on a trip to England, visiting their cousins. At the time, it hadn't seemed half as complicated as it did now though.

"Looking very good, you two." Arthur commented kindly, ignoring the fact that it was slightly....tilted. Francis glanced at it and turned what would have been a snort of laughter into a quiet giggle, peeling the skin from peaches. Arthur glared.

"Yes indeed. Looking very good." He conceded with a wink and a charming smile. He sent Arthur a suggestive look, licking the peach juice from his fingers. Arthur blushed and quickly returned to his newspaper before he could see the perfectly satisfied yet still hungry expression that Francis was certain to give him. That look always made him so...

The trip to the globe theater, Matthew remembered, had been a nightmare. They had seen A Midsummer Nights Dream, throughout which Alfred had fallen asleep, and Francis and Arthur had spent the entire thing kissing and mocking each other on the respective countries' literary geniuses, fighting quietly with the oddest gleam in their eyes that promised very loud, and very physical sex. Matthew, in an attempt to ignore his parents, had paid utmost attention to the play, which might have been nice if not for the distractions and murmured loving mumbles of ' you English and your fairies'. And in truth, if he ever heard the word Shakespeare again, it would be too soon.

"Hey Dad?" Arthur hummed in reply, turning his face up toward Alfred, eyes still carefully trained on the newspaper. Alfred paused in his gluing and frowned thoughtfully, lips pursed in an expression of concentration. "Why is it called the globe theater, when it's not actually a globe?"

Arthur frowned, unsure of how to reply, while Francis turned to regard his family with amusement. He had moved on to pitting and slicing strawberries, pulling cake from the oven. Listening with half an ear, it always gave him such a kick when Arthur couldn't answer questions their sons posed him.

"Yea. Why isn't it called the cylindrical theater or something?" Matthew looked towards his father for an explanation, big violet blue eyes demanding a proper answer, no more no less.

"That just wouldn't sound good." Was the only thing Arthur could come up with. He glared at Francis when the other just laughed softly, expertly balancing four plates on his arms.

"But that makes no sense!" Alfred carried on. "It's not a globe. So why is it called globe theater?"

Francis gently stroked his hair as he set a slice of freshly made cake before each of them. "You see, mes fils," He said in a way that made him seem infinitely wise, "The silly Brits don't know their geometric shapes." He sat down to enjoy his own cake, tossing a smile at Arthur who sputtered wordlessly.

"Silly Brits." Matthew finished easily, having accepted the answer, quickly holding up the sopping wet popsicle wall before it collapsed. Arthur sighed.

"I'm going to kill you later."

Owari


End file.
